


A Little Less Looking, A Little More Fuck Me

by rudennotgingr



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, PWP, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-10
Updated: 2014-08-10
Packaged: 2018-02-12 12:35:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2110143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rudennotgingr/pseuds/rudennotgingr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Haunted by the events of New Earth...well, not haunted so much as constantly reminded of. And by events, I mean one event. Yes, THAT event. Anyway, the Doctor finds himself in a bit of a predicament the day after.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little Less Looking, A Little More Fuck Me

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to thedoctordanceswithrose for the beta! The dialogue at the end though is unbeta'd, so all mistakes there are mine. This was sitting in my drafts for forever, so I finally decided to finish it.

Her hands fisted into his hair, tugging then relaxing to draw her nails along his scalp, chestnut strands sliding through her fingers. And then repeat. Her hips pressed into his before retreating, causing him to helplessly pursue with his own, needing to feel her. Her chest brushed his as she constantly changed her angle of attack; up, down, tilt this way, tilt the other.

That's what it was really, an attack. He hadn't been prepared, hadn't even expected it. He had rambled about something brilliant then smiled a big goofy smile at her like some big love-struck fool--which he was--but that wasn't the point. The point of course was that instead of a beaming smile or an innocent yet cheeky retort, she had murmured and licked her lips before launching at him.

She had moved deceptively fast for a human, using her newfound grip in his hair to yank him down to her, crashing their lips together. He had been so overwhelmed, he hadn't even had the capacity to so much as consider pulling his hands from his pockets. It was all forceful pressing of lips--no tongue, no nipping...just her plump lips pushing against his, as if she were trying to make them occupy the same space.

His brain had gone blissfully quiet and yet exploded in new sensations all at once. The normal things that occupied his mind like repairs needed on the TARDIS, what he would have for his next meal, how long it had been since holding her hand all vanished. He couldn't have read any timelines if all of his lives had depended on it. His mighty Time Lord brain had shut everything out to focus on the pink and yellow human swaying and rocking against him.

He had wanted to do so many things in that moment--wanted to reach his tongue out to properly taste her, instead of being left with a teasing hint on the seam of his lips; wanted to grip her hips, dig his fingers into the fabric of her tight black trousers; wanted to ask how she had even gotten into those in the first place, and if there was room for one more; wanted to show her that no, there was definitely not room for two, so who needed to wear trousers anyway?

Instead he was rooted to the spot, his hips trying to keep up with hers of their own accord. When she had finally popped free and released him all he could do was stare in stunned disbelief. Rose Tyler had properly snogged the pants off of him and he couldn’t think straight, couldn’t think at all, really. His thoughts were something like _Rose, Rose, lips, Rose, Rose, breasts, Rose, Rose...ROSE_. A tiny part of him had been pleased to note her heaving chest and ragged breaths as she pointed, saying something he didn’t quite hear, before she walked away.

Of course he had acted all suave and under control afterwards. But the sway of her hips and the way--

“Do I have something on my shirt?”

He jumped, arms and legs flailing outwards, knocking the empty jam jar off the kitchen table. Hastily, he stood up, thrusting his hands in his pockets, and trying to cover up the fact that he had been surprised by her presence. Rose stood a few feet away, well past the doorway, and he wondered how long she had been standing there...watching him replay the events from earlier that day over and over in his head. Well, not events plural so much as one event. Most important event of the day, of the week...of the year even. Of all his lives.

She raised an eyebrow. “Doctor?”

“Hmmm?” He was having a hard time remembering what they had been talking about. His eyes kept dropping to her lips, from her lips to her chest (really Rose, you shouldn’t wear such thin tops if you don’t want people to stare), and from her chest down to her mostly bare legs, save the tiny cotton night shorts she was wearing. He tried, honestly he did, to bring his gaze back up. His eyes always seemed to have other plans once they reached her lips again, triggering the very vivid playback of the day’s kiss.

"I said, do I have something on my shirt?"

His eyes snapped back to hers, blinking several times, trying to remove the beginnings of a lust-induced haze. He hoped the light was too dim for her to see his slightly flushed cheeks. Well, this was new. This body was registering and showing embarrassment. Brilliant. He'd have to work on that. 

She was still staring at him. Right! Talking...they had been talking about her shirt. And how thin it was, how little fabric made up the actual--no, no, no. STOP. She was a companion, his best mate really, and she deserved better than this. It wasn't her fault that Cassandra had possessed her and forced her to do something against her will, even though he thought the action was a splendid idea and would very much like to try it again, please. Oh, blimey this was hard. Well, not yet...but getting there. Oh, for crying out loud. 

Rose cleared her throat, giving him a pointed look. She crossed her arms, her cleavage pressing together tightly. Oh Rassilon, that was not helping. 

He squeezed his eyes shut, drawing in a deep breath. He shook his head, forcing his eyes open and desperately willing them to stay trained on her face. "No, Rose. There is nothing on your shirt. Nothing out of the ordinary anyway."

"So then why were you staring?"

"I was thinking."

"About my shirt?"

"Yes. Wait, what? No. No! That is...I...er..." He tugged on his ear, now looking anywhere _but_ at her.

She giggled, a soft soothing sound that gave him cause to look back at her. She shook her head, blonde hair swirling gently about her shoulders. She gave him a slow reassuring smile. 

He relaxed, well, mostly. Her shirt was still quite distracting. A different thought popped into his head. He furrowed his brow, taking in the details of her appearance. The clothes, now that he wasn't so focused on what was beneath them, were what she usually wore to bed. Her face was make up free, the way he liked it best, and her hair was slightly mussed in the back.

"Why are you in here?" he blurted. Directed at anyone else, they probably would have balked at his rudeness, at his blunt subject change. He knew that she would be able to puzzle out his true meaning; she would be able to hear the undercurrent of concern weaving through what he never quite said. 

She fidgeted with the hem of her shirt and he tried to keep his thoughts from wandering. Well, wandering too far. She blew a strand of hair out of her face. "Couldn't sleep."

"Ah." This had hardly been the first time his human companion had trouble sleeping, but it was the first time it had come up with this new body. He wanted...no, he wouldn't dare hope that. Not this soon.

She bit her lip, her eyes now roaming around the room. "Would you, um, could...would you mind...ya know? What we used to do? Before..." She trailed off, gesturing vaguely at his face.

He winced. Right. Before his regeneration, after a difficult adventure there were times he had helped her sleep, either sitting in the room or laying on the bed with her, usually above the duvet. Maybe if he had told her about the process before he changed appearances right in front of her, instead of just expecting her to take it in stride, this wouldn't be an issue. In all fairness, she really had taken it very well. That was Rose, brilliant and adaptable.

"I know it wasn't exactly high on the life threatening list, but--"

"No, it wasn't. Not really."

"Right. Then I'll just..." She pointed over her shoulder before turning to leave the room.

It took him .42 seconds to register the hurt written all over her face and realize what he had just said. He was a right arse. 

"Rose, wait." He shot forward, snagging her wrist in his long fingers, making her turn towards him. Her eyes were downcast, her whole posture slumped in resignation.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean...well, I did mean it. But not like that." He inhaled, trying to gather his thoughts so he could start over. She was looking at him now at least, but her expression was more guarded than he wanted. He scrubbed his free hand down his face. 

"What I meant was, no it wasn't a particularly deadly experience...but that doesn't mean it wasn't exhausting or mentally taxing. Or disturbing even on a certain level." He shuddered, remembering Cassandra's presence in his brain. "You've never had anything like that happen before, it's perfectly normal for you to react this way. You may not have been in physical danger, but you were still violated and taken advantage of." 

He looked down at his trainers. "I should have been able to keep her from entering my mind. Granted, I more or less agreed to it. Still...’Guess I haven't bothered to keep up my mental defenses since..." Thoughts began to swirl and jumble in his head, the weight of so, so many deaths weighing down on him. He was sinking, drowning in guilt and regret. Fire burned in his lungs. He couldn't breathe, couldn't see clearly.

Small, warm fingers weaved their way between his, squeezing tightly. Just like that, everything cleared. His vision came back, sharp and focused. Air moved easily in and out of his lungs, in through his nose and out through his mouth. She had pulled him up, steadied him...all with one simple gesture. His hearts threatened to burst with an emotion he still dared not name. He looked down at her, trying to show how incredibly thankful he was with one look.

She smiled, that patented tongue in teeth smile that caused his hearts to trip over each other every single time, then tugged gently on his hand. “Come on, Doctor. Looks like we both need some help. Think you’re due for some actual sleep anyway, not something coma induced. Let’s get to bed, yeah?”

He bit his tongue, only nodding in response. He let her lead the way to her room. He knew where it was, of course, right across from his. But by letting her lead just slightly, even with their hands clasped together, he had a better view of her swaying hips and quite frankly gorgeous long legs. Probably not the best train of thought to ride on right now, seeing as how they were about to climb in bed together. Not like that. Even though he wished, he wanted...he wanted very much.

Entering her room, they paused just inside. She dropped his hand and seemed suddenly nervous. “I’m, uh, just going to pop to the loo first.” Flashing him a quick smile, she disappeared into her en suite.

Unless she had a sudden need to pee, there was no need for her to use the loo. She had already washed and brushed her teeth; she had done that before attempting sleep the first time. He knew she had, knew her habits and could still smell the mint toothpaste on her breath. He listened, his Time Lord ears picking up the sound of running water and nothing else. Then why had she...the realization that this was the first time they had shared a bed since his regeneration hit him like a ton of bricks.

She was nervous.

To be fair, so was he. The room suddenly felt too small. Did he sit in the chair? No, sleep had been discussed, so the bed it was. Did he still lay over the duvet? Would he be allowed under if he dared ask? What would she say if he was under there before she had returned? He wanted to run, bolt out the door without looking back. But he couldn’t. This was Rose. She had asked for something, and he could never tell her no.

Well, he most certainly wasn’t going to be doing any sleeping in his full get up. He began partially undressing, trying to decide what to do, where to lay...or if he should just wait for Rose. He toed off his trainers and pulled off his socks at the foot of her bed, eyeing the pink duvet warily. It was just another symbol of all the unspoken walls and boundaries between them. He hated it. He loosened his tie, undoing the knot, pulling it free of his collar, and letting it fall to the floor. He stared at it lying in a twisted heap as he slid his arms out of his suit jacket. He let that drop unceremoniously to the floor as well. He was sure there was a metaphor in here somewhere with the way he was discarding his clothing, but he didn’t care, didn't even dare figure it out, afraid of what it would mean. Popping open the last button on his oxford, he removed it in much the same way as he had his suit jacket.

He was left with his white vest top and pinstriped trousers. The trousers wouldn’t be particularly comfortable to sleep in, but the alternative was likely to get him kicked out of Rose’s room and never invited back again. He stood at the foot of the bed, still not reaching a decision on body placement. Oh, now there was an interesting...no. Stop. This overactive brain of his was going to get him into trouble.

Rose stepped back out of the loo, pausing in the doorway, to let her eyes adjust to the dimmer lighting he assumed. “You’re not sleeping in that, are you?”

He nearly choked. “What do you mean?”

“I mean...your trousers.”

“Rose...if I take those off--”

“As long as you’re wearing pants underneath, we’re fine.” There was a slight pause, and he could hear the smile in her next words. “Unless you want to go try and find something else? Sure you have some jim jams stashed somewhere. I might be asleep by that point though.”

"No, I...no." His hands wandered to the zipper, slightly shaking.

He waited until she crawled under the covers before dropping his trousers to the floor, swallowing hard as he pulled his feet out of the brown puddle around his ankles. He still wasn’t sure where he was supposed to...oh. She had pulled down the duvet, _inviting_ him underneath with her. His head swam. She was sending very mixed signals and he was having a hard time keeping his actions under control. With a deep breath he slid under the covers, trying to get comfortable flat on his back, engrossing himself with the ceiling.

Rose’s warm hand found his somewhere beneath the sea of fabric. She laced their fingers together, and turned on her side to face him.

“Goodnight, Doctor.”

He felt his whole body relax. “Goodnight, Rose.” Oddly at peace, he closed his eyes, drifting off to a dreamless sleep.

…..

The tingling feeling in his right arm was what slowly roused him from unconsciousness. A heavy weight was pressing down on it. His pillow, that’s what it was. He was hugging his pillow, and the weight was making his arm fall asleep. Wait, that didn’t make sense. Why would he have a heavy pillow? Had he gotten a new pillow? He squeezed experimentally. It was warm and soft, yet still firm. That was odd. His brain flipped through material after material, trying to determine what this new pillow, which he didn’t remember buying, was made of. He squeezed again, this time nuzzling his face against it.

The pillow tensed in his grip, then relaxed. A moving pillow? Now that was too far. He opened his eyes. What? Oh no. How had...oh no. He desperately tried to remember details of falling asleep the night before, but higher thought was escaping him. The view before him was turning his thoughts to mush. Creamy skin gave way to the light pink fabric of her night shirt, his eyes tracing down over the curve of her breast. His eyes nearly popped out of his skull and he struggled to keep his breathing even. He had fallen asleep on Rose Tyler’s chest.

He lay silent and still, trying to take in details as well as not wake his (hopefully) still slumbering companion. His arms were wrapped tightly around her waist, as if he had been afraid she would vanish in the night. Gentle weights were resting on his left bicep and at the nape of his neck: her hands, he assumed. An involuntary shiver ran down his spine. Her hands twitched, but there was no other movement. The rest of his body was pressed against her, and he was immensely grateful she hadn’t awoken to feel _that_. Not yet anyway. He had trapped one of her legs underneath his, limbs tangled together so closely that he wasn’t sure where hers ended and his began. He swallowed roughly, somehow just noticing the placement of his cheek. His head rested comfortably on one of her breasts, his chin in contact with her clothing...his cheek in contact with her warm skin. He inhaled sharply, inadvertently taking in her scent, fueling a wild desire to taste her skin. Just one little flick of the tongue. Surely she wouldn’t notice that in her sleep. Would she?

He hovered on the edge of desire, trying to list all the reasons he should get up and walk, no, run away. Right now. Each reason shattered with every rise of her chest. Thinking of it as a compromise, he nuzzled into her chest, nose brushing the top of the dip between her breasts. Nothing. Well, that told him there was a very high chance that Rose was in fact, still asleep. He hesitated, before tossing all the doubts aside and giving in to his urges. He turned his head ever so slightly, brushing his lips against her chest. It wasn’t enough. He pressed his lips more firmly against her bare skin, barely able to keep his tongue in his mouth.

The surface underneath his head jumped. Rose’s heart had skipped a beat and then thumped against her ribcage with a vengeance. He froze, lips just barely touching her skin. His eyes watched the rise and fall of her chest, waiting for any other reaction. Based on her heart rate and her breathing, she was either now awake or in the process of waking. He should stop. He really should. This was wrong. What if he had been right and she didn’t want him like this?

But what if she did?

He couldn’t help it now, with the taste of her just barely on his lips. He needed more. His ran his tongue in a slow circle against the skin he could reach without moving his head. Her taste exploded in his mouth, flooding his body with want: wanting to taste every inch of her, wanting to see how different the inside of her mouth tasted, and the inside of another very intimate part of her. He could hear her heart thundering wildly in her chest and feel her breath coming in ragged puffs against his hair. She was awake, there was no mistaking it. But she hadn’t pushed him away. That spurred him on, his senses heightened and tingling at the mere taste of her skin.

He pressed his lips to her chest once more, gentle at first, giving her a chance to push him away, to yell at him if she wanted. Slap him even. He heard a soft gasp from above his head and increased the pressure of his mouth, flicking his tongue out in short strokes. Her fingers gripped his bicep, the ones at the nape of his neck twisting into the fabric of his vest. 

He smiled against her skin, continuing to press soft kisses in a small area, still not willing to move his head, afraid of breaking the moment. He grazed his teeth across the top of her breast, eliciting another sharp intake of breath from Rose as she arched into him.

Doubts of her awareness and consent washed away, desire continuing to rise higher and higher. He uncurled the arm she was gripping out from around her, placing his hand on her waist. Her arm stretched awkwardly, trying to keep ahold. His fingers danced up along her rib cage, underneath the swell of her breast, then trailed slowly up the dip between them while his mouth still moved against her skin. He fingered the collar of her top, clearly showing his intent and giving her ample time to stop him. Her hand at his back trailed up to tangle in his hair instead of his shirt.

He gripped her collar, letting the tips of his cool fingers slide underneath the fabric. He paused, listening to her rapid heartbeat, noting how it beat in time with his two and wondering if she could feel them pounding in his chest nestled against her side. Gripping the fabric tightly, he lifted his chin and tugged it down. His breath caught in his throat as her chest was exposed before him. For a moment he couldn't move, couldn't breathe. Her skin here was just as smooth and inviting, the rosy buds of her nipples beckoning him to touch her.

He exhaled, lightly blowing cool air across her nipples. Rose stopped breathing, and for a moment he thought she was going to change her mind. He froze, hearts hammering as he awaited further reaction. Maybe she was waiting for him. He was the one who usually bolted or changed the subject when he felt she was getting to close. Not because he didn’t trust her, or want her. Because he was afraid of rejection (which was frankly seeming less and less likely), afraid that if he did let her in that it would hurt all the more when he did have to let her go. He hadn't even properly kissed her yet and he knew that thinking that way was a mistake. Regrets would be worse. How could he have put this off for so long? Well, there was no time like the present.

He maneuvered her top so that it hooked underneath the swell of her breasts, fabric straining just a bit, but not tearing. Now there was an idea...later, most definitely later. With the tip of his index finger, he traced the outer edge of the nipple furthest from his mouth before covering the whole breast with his palm. He squeezed gently, watching the way her soft flesh moved under his fingers. Rose sighed, warm breath tickling his hair. A fresh bolt of arousal shot through his body. He tilted his head and took her other breast into his mouth, tongue swirling in circles around the nipple. Rose moaned and the hand that had been trying to keep purchase on his arm shot up to fist into his hair.

He rolled her nipple between his fingers, pinching just a bit as he nipped lightly at the one in his mouth. Her body arched up as she moaned. Her hands plunged deep into his locks, but otherwise didn’t move. She must be as nervous as he was earlier. He was no longer nervous, now he only wanted, the force of his arousal hitting him hard and fast. He continued to shower her breast with kisses and quick flicks of his tongue, keeping a similar rhythm with his palm and long fingers on its twin. 

He stretched the arm pinned under her back till he could grip the hip opposite his body, tucking his thumb in the waistband of her night shorts. Shifting his weight, he angled his leg so his thigh rested between hers. She stopped breathing, digging her nails into his scalp. He growled, sucking as much of her breast as he could into his mouth, running the flat of his tongue across her nipple before flicking the hardened peak with the tip, letting the vibrations add to the sensation. He palmed the opposite breast, rolling and massaging his fingers into the warm flesh. He felt her muscles tighten, could see in his mind the way she was most likely biting down on her plump bottom lip as she resisted the urge to move against him. Pressing down slightly with his leg, he tightened his hold on her hip, guiding her as he silently encouraged her to rock against his thigh.

She moaned, following his lead and grinding against his leg. She twisted her fingers in his hair, trying to pull his face even closer to her chest. He felt the heat from her core and the wetness of her arousal through the thin fabric separating skin from skin. The fact that he was affecting her this way sent a shiver of pleasure down his spine. He pressed his hardened length against her leg, searching for any kind of friction, and groaned around her nipple at the slight relief.

The hand on her hip slipped down into her pajama bottoms, gripping her bum as she rolled her hips against his thigh. The warmth of her throbbing center burned into his leg, the sounds she was making sending delicious bolts of pleasure straight to his cock. She whimpered, then groaned in frustration as he continued to lavish her breasts with single-minded attention. Well, that wouldn't do. A (sexually) frustrated Rose Tyler? Now that his intentions were apparent and out in the open, and she hadn’t made him stop, who was he to deny her?

His hand left her breast, trailing lightly down her abdomen over her clothing. He placed feather light kisses all over her breast, without touching her nipple. She clenched her hands in his hair tighter, the slight pain doing nothing but further fuel his arousal. She tried to navigate his mouth back to where she wanted, but he just chuckled, smiling wider when her breath caught as his hand reached the waistband of her pajama bottoms, fingers tracing back and forth across her lower stomach just beneath the elastic.

His hand snaked further beneath the fabric, bodies frozen as he continued to cross the unspoken boundaries between them. He spread his fingers wide, mapping the area in his mind, tracing the dip of her inner thigh with his pinky. She wasn’t wearing any knickers, the minx, and the skin was smooth. Where she most needed friction lay just beyond his fingertips. He laid his head on her chest, listening to her rapidly beating heart, fingertips tracing small circles on her flesh, but not venturing any further. She relaxed underneath him, running her hands lightly through his hair, breath still ragged and harsh. The urge to look at her swept over him, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Her reactions were telling him that she wanted this as much as he did. But what if it wasn’t because she wanted it with him, just that she was human and naturally craved physical release? He couldn’t bear it, wouldn’t be able to continue doing what he wanted to do to her if he saw any hint of regret or rejection on her face. The need to touch her was stronger, the smell of her arousal too much for him to focus on anything else for more than a second. He squeezed his eyes shut and pushed his hand down, sliding a finger through her slick folds.

“Fuck,” she gasped, arching into his hand, hands clinging to his hair.

A fresh wave of lust rolled over him at hearing her mouth wrap around the filthy word. Oh, he wanted to hear her say it again, and again. Wanted her to scream it just before she screamed his name as she came apart beneath him. He readjusted his weight, moving his leg so as to not hinder his hand’s range of motion. Placing a kiss over her heart, he slid his finger back up through her folds, brushing gently over her clit, before slipping back down and plunging inside her. She swore again, breathing in short quick pants, hands clenching and unclenching against his scalp. Circling her nipple with his tongue, he slowly pumped his finger in and out, pushing deep enough to coat his knuckle with her warm juices on each inward stroke.

She groaned and he added a second finger, changing the angle so that he could curl them just so. Her hands tightened in his hair and her hips ground down on his fingers with each thrust of his hand. He brushed her clit lightly with his thumb, eliciting a whimper and a hard buck of her hips. He pressed down on the swollen bundle of nerves, moving his thumb in tight circles as his fingers continued to push in and out of her wet heat. Rose began mumbling incoherent encouragements and his hand and mouth kept up their pace and attention to her body's needs, quickly learning just what she wanted.

He felt her inner walls tighten against his fingers and he moaned around her pert nipple at the thought of those same walls gripping his cock. He pressed against her and moved his digits with renewed vigor, thumb flicking her clit and adding a third finger, filling her more fully. She ground wildly against his hand, breath short and heart threatening to burst from her chest. Her muttered ramblings became a long strand of _fuck_ repeated between each gasp of air. Her fingers flexed against his scalp and he felt her inner walls flutter. He could think of nothing in this moment other than the smell and feel of her slick arousal surrounding his fingers, the taste of her flesh beneath his lips and tongue, the sounds of her labored breathing mingling with the wet thrusts of his hand into her core.

He nipped at her breast then sucked hard, timing the flicks of his tongue with the movements of his thumb. He felt every muscle in her body tense beneath him, stretched tight and ready to snap.

"Come for me, Rose," he murmured around her breast. 

Whether it was the words or the vibrations they sent through her body, he wasn't sure. She shattered, back arching off the bed, body trembling, hands clenching wildly in his hair. She made a strangled sound in the back of her throat; she must have muffled her cry of pleasure by biting down on her lip. The traitorous thought that she was sparing him the embarrassment of yelling out her true lover's name flashed in his mind. He froze for an instant before pushing the thought aside and coaxing her down from her high, fingers coming to a gradual stop and placing light kisses just above her breasts.

She went limp beneath him, one hand resting on his head while the other had dropped to her stomach. He slid his fingers slowly out of her, relishing in the way her body shivered with each gradual inch of tantalizing friction. He wanted to hold her hand, wanted to lick his fingers clean, taste her essence on his tongue. His cock twitched against her leg. He winced and awkwardly settled his wrist on her thigh, keeping his sticky fingers off her skin and trying to cover up the desire another part of his body wasn't even attempting to hide.

He rested his head on her chest, trying to let the rhythm soothe his nerves as her heart rate returned to normal. Well, more normal. He noticed it was still slightly elevated. Nerves. That was the only explanation. She was probably working out the easiest way to reject him, to tell him this had been a terrible mistake. He waited in tense horror, preparing himself for the inevitable heartbreak that was sure to follow. He couldn't bring himself to look at her. What had he done? Time Lord restraint indeed. He should have followed his first instinct and bolted out the door as soon as his eyes had opened.

Maybe it wasn't too late. He could still escape, run and not look back. But then what? Would they pretend it never happened? Would she ask him to take her home? Regret washed over him, oh Rassilon, what had he done?

"Doctor?"

Her voice was quiet, but too loud to his ears, too layered with emotion for him to single any particular one out. His body went rigid, hearts hammering wildly in his chest as he held his breath, waiting for the fresh wave of bitter rejection to come crashing down on him.

"Look at me?"

He didn't move. Couldn't. Something in her voice hinted too much at hope, a hope he didn't deserve. He must have misheard her.

Fingers gently brushed through his hair. "Please?"

It was the please that did it, the soft plea of vulnerability that cracked his resolve. How could he deny her anything after what he'd just done? Remembering he still had a hand on her bum, he slid it up to the small of her back, fighting the burn of embarrassment rising in his cheeks. He pushed himself up on his elbow, slowly turning his head, exhaling roughly. Desperately wanting to rub the back of his neck, he met her gaze and his world narrowed.

She was beautiful. Face flushed, framed by golden hair, and her eyes...they were watching him carefully, emotions open and clear for him to read. He saw no anger, no rejection...no disappointment. There was nothing but warm affection and a love he wasn't willing to place a depth on, for fear of expecting too much. Well, that and concern. Maybe the first two emotions were strictly friend related. Maybe she appreciated the release, but was worried he'd now expect more. He frowned and opened his mouth to speak, fumbling for words.

"Rose...I...this was...I'm sorry."

"I'm not," she replied evenly and without hesitation.

The Doctor blinked. "Hang on. I'm sorry...you're what?"

"You heard me."

"Yes, but...so, wait, you're not mad at me?"

"No," she said softly, dropping her hand to cup his cheek. "Doctor, this is only going to be weird if you make it that way. I'm ok with...with this. But I won't push you if this isn't what you really want. Just...promise me you won't regret it." She chewed her bottom lip, the vulnerability in her eyes making his hearts clench.

"Oh, Rose. I don't regret it. Well, not in the way you mean." He took a deep breath, nerves flooding his body and making him feel the urge to flee. She was being honest with him; she deserved that much in return. "I've wanted _this_ for a very long time. And while I don't regret the experience, I shouldn't have...not like that. Not the first time anyway." The need to run his hand through his hair in frustration, directed only at himself, was too strong. He reached the hand resting on her thigh towards his head, remembering at the last second that it was covered in Rose. Without thinking, he popped his fingers in his mouth, groaning as her taste exploded on his tongue. Licking every drop of the sticky substance off his digits, his eyes closed and blood went rushing south, reminding him of his earlier predicament.

"Then like what?" Rose asked, her voice low and hoarse.

His eyes flew open, two fingers still plunged in his mouth. Her pupils were dilated and her gaze was heated as she ran her tongue over her bottom lip. He didn't need Time Lord senses to determine that Rose Tyler was most definitely aroused. He slowly drew his fingers out of his mouth, keeping their eyes locked.

"Well," he drew the word out as he moved up her body, shifting his weight so he could hover above her, propped up with both elbows on either side of her. "I could tell you. _Or_...I could show you." He pressed his hips into hers, fighting to keep his eyes open as her own rolled back in her head, a low moan coming from him or her, he wasn't entirely sure. Maybe it was both.

"I think...a demonstration...would help...me, guh...better understand," she gasped between pants as they ground against each other.

Not able to hold back anymore, he claimed her mouth with his own. This was even better than the kiss that had drove him mad the day before. And not just because he was pressing her down into the mattress, coaxing his desire for her to come back with a vengeance. This time it was the real thing, this time it was him and Rose, no other forces involved. And it was brilliant.

The kiss was messy and desperate, teeth and tongue joining lips as they gave in to the sexual tension that had been steadily building between them from the word _run_. As they continued to rock against each other, his hands roamed her body, exploring every inch he could reach. He growled in frustration as his fingers touched cloth instead of bare skin. Grabbing the bottom of her cami, the Doctor attempted to push it up her torso. She swatted at his hand, causing him to break the kiss in surprise and give her his best pout.

"You first, Time Lord," she purred, nipping at his bottom lip and dropping her hands from where they were buried in his hair to grip the hem of his vest. Yanking it awkwardly over his head, she then danced her fingers down his back, sending shivers down his spine and causing him to buck against her. They groaned simultaneously, sparks of pleasure firing along his nerves. Rose slipped her hands lower, toying with the waistband of his pants.

"These next."

He swallowed hard, staring down at her, the commanding tone in her voice making him harder than he thought possible. With a bit of awkward fumbling from them both they were able to remove his pants, tossed to some forgotten corner of her room. He had a split second to remember the clothing that she was still wearing before her fingers traced the length of his erection, sending all rational thought fleeing from his mind.

Her hand gripped his shaft and she began to move it up and down, punctuating the brilliant movement with gentle pulsing squeezes. His eyes fluttered shut and his arms shook as she worked his cock with nothing but her hand. The Doctor fell back to his forearms, his head dropping to her shoulder. Her lips found his pulse point and she sucked hard.

"Fuck," he grunted, unable to stop himself from bucking into her hand. Her tongue joined her lips and the combined feel of her mouth on his skin and her hand on his cock was pushing him closer and closer to the edge. He needed to stop her before he came in her hand like some...some... _human_. "Rose...I’m...too close.”

Her hand froze, but didn’t leave his pulsing length and it took every last ounce of willpower to not thrust into her hand and seek the completion his body was screaming for.

“‘Guess you better fuck me properly then, _Doctor_ ,” she whispered, her lips having moved to brush over the shell of his ear. He nearly came then and there.

What he did instead was lift his head to look into her eyes, the raw hunger in his gaze making her gasp beneath him. He reached down and grabbed the waistband of her sleep shorts, yanking them roughly down to her calves. Pushing them the rest of the way down, Rose pulled one foot free. He settled between her legs with single minded purpose, positioning himself cautiously at her entrance.

Doubts resurfaced in his mind, once more making him feel like this was never meant to happen.

As if sensing his hesitation, she wrapped her legs around his waist, the soft fabric of her shorts brushing over his arse. Her arms snaked around his neck and shoulders, pulling him to her for a kiss filled with so much love and tenderness that he actually felt tears burn beneath his eyelids.

It didn’t take long for the kiss to become heated, his tongue unable to resist delving into her mouth. His length slid through her folds, making them both groan. Unable to hold back any longer, he pushed himself into her heat inch by blissful inch. He thought his brain power had failed him before. It was nothing to his mind now. High on Rose and how she felt around him, wet and hot and just tight enough, he couldn’t think of anything else but this solitary moment.

Left with a primal urge he had thought to be long since absent in Time Lords, he began to move above her. It only took a few thrusts for them to reach a rhythm that worked for them both, as if their bodies had been made for each other. He knew his had been made for her, and would only be for her. He could no longer tell which one of them made which noises, but his ears were full of pants and moans with the occasional curse thrown in.

His body was trembling, pleasure sparking and burning along every nerve. As the movement of his hips became more wild and erratic, he knew he was too far gone to stop now. He could only hope she was just as close as he was.

Thankfully, she chose that moment to gasp into his ear, “Gonna...come.”

She clung tighter and tighter to him, her nails digging into his shoulders only spurring him on. Harder and faster. Harder. Faster. His muscles strained, his orgasm building at the base of his spine. Rose moved her hips in time to his thrusts, then jerked, grinding hard against him as her body spasmed with the force of her orgasm.

His name on her lips, full of love and passion, pushed him under the sea of euphoria right behind her. White light exploded behind his eyes, like hundreds of supernovae bursting in rapid succession. As he cried out her name, his own body shuddering with the force of his release, his time sense kicked into gear. Even as her timeline twisted and twined tighter and tighter around his own, he had never felt so free.

Writhing and grinding against each other, drawing out their orgasms as long as possible, they gradually came down from their high. The Doctor collapsed on top of her, nuzzling into the crook of her neck and breathing her in. Rose let her legs fall from his waist but kept her arms looped around his torso, running her hands up and down his back in lazy strokes as she caught her breath.

He couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact that he was here, in a post coital cuddle with Rose Tyler. There was no place else he would rather be. Yet he could feel nerves creeping up again, still full of self doubt that she truly wanted _him_.

"So was this your plan all along?” he muttered into her shoulder, afraid to look at her even as he tried to make light of the situation. “To seduce me?" He couldn’t resist kissing the column of her neck.

She giggled then let out a dramatic sigh. "You caught me. It was a very gradual year long process."

"Really?" He pushed himself back to his forearms so he could see her face.

"Yes." 

"I…” He was at a loss for words, for once. Her revelation that she had wanted him as long as he had wanted her was making his head spin and his hearts were so full of emotion that he thought that we would burst. “I didn't know. I thought--"

"You apparently thought wrong,” she paused, her eyes dancing with mirth, “ _Time Lord_."

"Oi!" He feigned indignance, but had never been more thankful to be wrong about something in all his lives. She smirked up at him and so he reacted the only way he knew how, he tilted his head down and kissed her. It was a languid press of lips on lips, savoring the moment and that they had finally tore down the remaining walls between them. He could feel himself hardening again, and not wanting Rose to feel like they had to go again (even though he would very much like to) he slipped out and rolled to the side. At his body’s protest of the loss of contact, he kept one arm around her and pulled her against his side as he settled flat on his back.

She snuggled close, pillowing her head on his shoulder and placing a hand on his chest. They were both silent for a moment. She was the first to break the quiet, her voice soft and vulnerable. "So what was different? I mean...why now?"

"Er...well..." He had been foolish to think she wouldn’t ask _that_.

"You can tell me."

"It was that bloody kiss,” he blurted, running his free hand through his hair as best he could. Part of him wondered what it looked like now, after Rose had gotten her hands on it.

"Kiss? What…” she trailed off in confusion and he could practically hear the gears turning in her head as the answer fell into place. “Ohhh."

"I know, I know. It wasn't even you. Well, it was you...but not _you_. Which makes it worse.” He was rambling in his rush to explain, unable to stop himself. “But it was awful, Rose! No, not awful. Not in the sense that it was terrible. But it was torture. I couldn't think of anything else. And I'm sorry. I just--"

"Doctor." She propped herself up to look down at him, an unreadable expression on her face.

"No, Rose. It was wrong and I--"

She pressed her lips to his, cutting off his reply. When she pulled back she was smiling. "Would it help if I told you that the kiss, after I caught on to what she was doing, was actually more me than Cassandra?"

"What?” he blinked. “How did...you know what? I don't care. I really need to stop being surprised by the things you can do."

"Oh? How about...this." With a wicked grin, Rose sat up and pulled off her cami that had somehow remained hooked beneath her breasts.

The Doctor’s throat went dry as she slunk down his body, her eyes dark and predatory. She hovered over his unquestionably hard cock, licking her lips. He craned his neck, completely entranced as she dipped down and took his length into her warm mouth. Her tongue darted out, tasting their combined fluids from their lovemaking only minutes ago. His eyes rolled back in his head, the movement igniting the arousal he thought he had under control. He groaned and fisted his hands into the bed sheets. "Fuck...me..."

Sucking hard as she slid her mouth back up his cock and releasing him with an audible pop, she murmured, "Later. And repeatedly.”

As she wrapped her lips around him once more, he let his head fall back onto the pillow. The universe could wait a whole bloody year as far as he was concerned. What was the point of a time machine if you didn’t abuse the privilege every once in a while?


End file.
